How lightly I held her hand, how I kissed her lovely trailing laces.

"Mamma," I said to her, one day, "it is just like coming to heaven when
you call me to walk with you."

"You will know a better heaven some day," she said, laughingly; "but I
have not known it yet."

What was there she did not do? She sang until the music seemed to float
round the room; she drew and painted, and she danced. I have seen no one
like her. They said she was like an angel in the house; so young, so
fair, so sweet--so young, yet, in her wise, sweet way, a mother and
friend to the whole household. Even the maids, when they had done
anything wrong and feared the housekeeper, would ask my mother to
intercede for them.

If she saw a servant who had been crying, she did not rest until she
knew the cause of the tears. If it were a sick mother, then money and
wine would be dispatched. I have heard since that even if their love
affairs went wrong, it was always "my lady" who set them right, and many
a happy marriage took place from Tayne Abbey.

It was just the same with the poor on the estate; she was a friend to
each one, man, woman or child. Her face was like a sunbeam in the
cottages, yet she was by no means unwise or indiscriminate in her
charities. When the people had employment she gave nothing but kind
words; where they were industrious, and could not get work, she helped
them liberally; where they were idle, and would not work, "my lady"
lectured with grave sweetness that was enough to convert the most
hardened sinner.